Page 37 of Not So Goode

“No.”

“I will shout it as loud as I can.”

I glared. I knew she would. “Don’t.”

“I play that game in the cafeteria with my friends all the time.”

“You do not.”

“I silenced the entire cafeteria once. I shouted ‘big fat cock’ so loud it echoed. Got reprimanded by the dean, who was eating lunch in the cafeteria at the time.”

“You are twenty-one years old and still playing the penis game?” I asked, incredulous.

“The penis game is for amateurs.”

“You’re impossible.”

She grinned, shrugging demurely. “Yep.” She booped my nose. “Now. Quit being an uptight, stick-up-the-ass Goody Two-shoes and have some fun.”

“I did!” I snapped. “And look at the trouble it got me into.”

“Oh, that was just bad luck, bad timing, and assholes being assholes. And you not being used to drinking.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And that’s not the kind of fun I’m talking about.”

“I’m not saying that word, Lex. I can, and have, but I have nothing to prove right now.”

“Not what I’m talking about either. I’m talking about a certain tall dark and handsome drink of very fine water. Whom you are absolutely bonkers for.”

“I’m not bonkers for anyone.”

“You wouldn’t let go of his hand.”

“I’m still very woozy. It’s made me forgetful.”

“Sober enough to know you have to let go of someone’s hand.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Can you get off my case about this?”

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, watching Myles as he paraded backstage, shirt off, sweaty, high-fiving his bandmates, and taking swigs from a bottle of something. “When was the last time you had sex?” She asked, turning her face toward me but keeping her eyes on her prize.

“Six months, two weeks, and four days ago,” I answered, the words tumbling out without even having to think about it.

She blinked rapidly, turning a stupefied stare at me. “How the fuck are you alive right now?”

“You do realize sex is not actually literally essential to being alive?”

“It is if you’re doing it right,” she said. “And was it good?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t the best sex Glen and I ever had, but it wasn’t the worst.”

“Did you come?”

I flushed, because I apparently run hormone-high, now. “No.”

“Was there foreplay? Did he go down on you? Did you at least sneak into the bathroom after?”

“No, god no, and no.”

“Wait.” She turned her body to face me, grabbed me by the shoulders and held me in a death grip. “You said ‘god no’ for the middle question, which was the one about him going down on you. You said ‘god no’ as if this was a foregone conclusion, which leads me to the worrisome conclusion that our not-so-esteemed Señor Twinkle Mouse did not, in fact, provide you with regular and enthusiastic cunnilingus. Hi-Myles-I’m-so-excited-to-meet-you-I’m-Lexie-please-can-I-kiss-you-even-just-once.”